Creative Nonfiction

The Russian Song

Niki Farivar

I’m sitting on the couch, staring at the roof. One of my legs is on the table that is filled with cups and garbage. The plant next to my foot is dried. A slight light enters the room from the gap ... [+]

Creative Nonfiction

My Bravest Year

Valerie Ohtsji

SNAP! At first, it did not even register. The world suddenly tilts, like looking through a camera while it drops, your vision spinning with it. Then, you are blindly wondering why you are on the ... [+]

Creative Nonfiction

To All the Toys I've Loved Before

McKay Fritz

Blue, the Dog:
You really broke my heart, but I know it wasn’t your fault. I cried when you came back. It just seemed so innocent, and the neighbor girl was my best friend. I trusted her. I ... [+]

Creative Nonfiction

The Street in West Cambridge

Kathryn Alexa Jackson

During my transition from being a Harvard lab technician to a Harvard graduate student in the summer of 2015, I went home to New York for three weeks of vacation. My last day there was sunny and not ... [+]

Creative Nonfiction

The Alarm Clock

Madison Hutchings

“93, 94, 95...” I stared blankly at the ceiling, counting sheep in my head. “98, 99, 100...” My stomach did another gurgle, telling me that we wouldn’t have another normal lunchtime. I ... [+]

Creative Nonfiction

Love Letter to my Immigrant Family

Annmarie Charles

In 2010, the street artist Stephen Powers completed a series of murals as a love letter to the city of Philadelphia, his home. I had never heard of him before, but I’d seen these murals on my trips ... [+]

Creative Nonfiction

Remember the Fireflies

Angelina Mullins

One of my earliest memories is running around my great-grandmother’s backyard catching fireflies. Grandma Marie lived in Virginia, and, at least once a year, we would make the nine-hour journey to ... [+]

Creative Nonfiction

Who Am I?

Oge Ogbogu

MY MOTHERS TONGUE:
My mother’s tongue is precious to her. It clicks and snaps as her lips form her words. Sounds that I can only hear, but I can never make myself. My lips don’t make the ... [+]

Creative Nonfiction

Double Snail Shells

Rebecca Cazanave

This story isn’t a cute story or a quaint story, but it is a true story that I can’t quite make sense of. There was traveling and there was cancer, and then there were snail shells that have to ... [+]

Creative Nonfiction

My Stranger

Megan Doxey

I was sitting in a public square in Athens, when I saw something that Intrigued me. A young man, not five meters away from me, who also sat on a smooth bench of stone, was happily chewing on a gyro ... [+]

Creative Nonfiction

Passage

Alixa Brobbey

Rites are supposed to be heavy, large things. Difficult to carry or pass through. Empty stomach and a bulging suitcase as you make your way out of your mother's arms in a way that feels final. Empty ... [+]

Creative Nonfiction

Wetness

Yueying Yu

The bed
In the corner of a furnished room
It is purple
It is purple with little flowers, sprinkled on the edge of the linen.
It is...mine.
The room is also mine. The red bookshelf ... [+]

Creative Nonfiction

Tornadoes and Ice Cream

Hannah Young

“Dad, I had another tornado dream last night.” My father glanced over at me from the driver’s seat, his hands at 10 and 2, the perfect model of good driving. He turned his glance back to the ... [+]

Creative Nonfiction

Count Your Blessings

Kenley Kohls

“Ohmygosh I haven’t even started that monumental thousand point project due tomorrow.” My friend sighed rubbing his eyes, “how far are you Kenley?”
“Oh, umm...” I hesitate. Sweat ... [+]

Creative Nonfiction

Musings from the Front Porch

Samuel Cottam

A light fog seems to grip the air. Makes all the surfaces feel damp. The air itself not unsavory but with a definite hint of weight to it not at all like you feel in more arid climes. The effect is ... [+]

Creative Nonfiction

Almost

Lisa Christensen

For over four years I worked at a newspaper in Tooele County, a rural desert county in Utah. I had a coworker once say the county is a collection of almosts—it could be almost a fantastic hiking ... [+]

Creative Nonfiction

Grass Carp

Jack Dean

I finish mowing the lawn and drive to your house. I make habits like this out of a summer that feels overgrown and unkempt otherwise. Each week: edge in the morning, mow in the afternoon, drive to ... [+]